


just stars with people names

by vapaad



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Anakin Skywalker is the Son of The Force, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force mythos, Hurt/Comfort, Jedi Culture, Jedi Culture Respected, Kidnapping, Master & Padawan Relationship(s), Maul goes after Anakin instead of Satine, Platonic Cuddling, Psychological Torture, Slave Culture, That's Not How The Force Works, The force is non-binary, Torture, the force is a proactive parent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:27:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26122714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vapaad/pseuds/vapaad
Summary: No one expected for Anakin Skywalker to disappear so completely, but he did. No one expected for Darth Maul to hold him captive, but he is. He’s not expecting Obi-Wan Kenobi to abandon all and go after him (on the contrary, everyone else does), but he does.orIn which Anakin is captured by Darth Maul, gets tortured, and is saved. This of course entails; being cut off from the force, tears, and cuddles.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, The Force & Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 31
Kudos: 306
Collections: New SW Canon Server Works





	just stars with people names

**Author's Note:**

> hello! this was, once again, spawned from the New SW Canon discord server so all props to them! Special thanks to Darth Kitty, Hunter, and Kara for reading through this for me! (despite having them to read through it, i didn't really get a spelling/grammar beta so oops all mistakes in those parts are mine).
> 
> enjoy reading!
> 
> WARNINGS: depictions of torture and violence, thoughts of death. 
> 
> to skip to (h/c) fluff with context: command + f, keyword; silence (3/3)
> 
> to skip to pure fluff: command + f, keyword; in the third

\--

The Force is an energy that binds the universe. Throughout the galaxy, it is flowing within every being harmoniously. A simple fact of existence, is what the Force is. Though it encompasses and is within everything and everyone, some are more imbedded- _more attuned_ than others in this energy. Under the two suns, a son was born.

In his blood, the universal entity of the Force gives no room for anything other than it to inhibit. Anakin Skywalker is his name. His sire courses through him as if any other parent would their child. Only his is _cosmic._

When a part of one’s body is such a thing as the force, which it simply _is_ in the case of Anakin, there is no greater pain, no greater _hollow_ than losing it. It is a pain unlike any other and so, screams and gasps so unique accompanies the pain.

In another realm The Force cries for their thought lost child. After all, how could this be? The son has not rejoined the realm. The son is merely _gone_. It was as if a star has been swallowed by a black hole, ceasing to exist. With such a strong cry from the Force for the lost child, it is not mere talk that every Jedi felt the loss, as if a rip to reality itself.

On the top of the rotunda, a man stands in confusion. His _chosen_ is gone. Disappeared. This was not supposed to happen. General Skywalker should be- _is_ invincible, he has made it so. For an acolyte of the dark, fear is no strange thing. Yet, the utter _shock_ at the disappearance of Anakin Skywalker’s presence is enough to make even a Sith Master feel _fear_.

In the darkness hangs Anakin Skywalker, the most powerful living being in the galaxy, with a cosmic entity in his blood. In the darkness hangs Anakin Skywalker, barren, desolate, and not even a full _man_. He hangs, blood seeping from his eyes. There is a mask on his face, a sith artifact Anakin recalls from Jabiim. No room exists for him to even _scream_ at the utter invasion of his bodily being done by his capturer.

“Kenobi’s Padawan. So pitiful. So weak.” the spring of metal joints approaches the hanged man, sly finger brushing his jaw, insulting.

The hanged man has no strength to respond. His eyes are white, as if he is not present.

“I wonder, what is your Master doing right now? Has he realized your disappearance?” the Zabrak circles Anakin.

“Master, master where are you!” the Zabrak rolls the r’s, mocking. He laughs in imitation of a damsel.

“Have you no ounce of fight, child? Or has Sidious and Kenobi spoiled you so?” strong fingers grips Anakin’s jaw, holding up his head.

“Let the republic see what has become of their hero. Let the Jedi- let _Kenobi_ see what has befallen upon their chosen.” the grip strengthens, causing cracks. As instantly as the jolt of pain goes through, the pupils of the hanged man return.

With the pupils, come consciousness. With consciousness, come tears. With tears, come _blood._

“There there, let us save the tears for the show. Skywalker.” Maul grins, his eyes flashing the bold yellow which marks him as _Sith_.

\--

When Anakin was new to the Jedi temple, he had begun his meditation lessons with great struggle. Once, the instructors asked him _‘What does The Force feel to you?’_ to which he had no answer. To this day, when confronted with the question, by Obi-Wan, Padme, Ahsoka, or the clones, he still did not have an answer.

Anakin reckons that it’s because to him, The Force doesn’t _feel_. To him, the Force _is_.

It’s a limb, it is within him, being _cut off_ from the force is unimaginable. To imagine a human’s body with no water is to imagine Anakin Skywalker without the Force. There simply is _no_ _Anakin Skywalker_ without the Force.

There is simply _nothing_.

The loud tremor and brightness of millions of force sensitives in the galaxy _screaming_ to him is gone. He no longer feels his master, his padawan, his wife. Anakin no longer _feels_. For there is nothing, and he is no one.

There are no tears expelling from his eyes, only blood. His own body is shutting down with the absence of such an essential part of himself.

His vision blurs. Silently, Anakin reaches inwards, inwards to the well of power ever present within. When that did not work, Anakin reaches outwards, outwards to his sire, the well of power the Jedi make use of. What returns is nothing. Nothing. And he writhes in longing.

In pain, Anakin falls asleep.

He wakes to the sting of an electro-whip to his back. Solemnly he submits no response, the last years of Dooku’s Sith lightning has been a training course for him. But, when the air is dry, when the whip stings, Anakin can only think of what an electro-whip meant to a _slave_. Punishment. Is he deserving of this? Anakin does not know who his capturer is, his senses are _clouded_. To tell between a rock and a branch of wood would be difficult for him, let alone to tell a _person_. Vaguely he recalls the gloating of his torturer, murmurs of Obi-Wan and not much else. Anakin recalls nothing.

“Will your Master Kenobi save you, chosen one?” Anakin’s eyes are open, yet he sees nothing. His palms are open, yet he feels nothing. Not a drop of sweat coursing through his body, not the supposed tears- is it _tears?_ He swears he cried a little earlier. The voice of his capturer is raspy, and it’s somewhat _familiar_ though he can’t ever recall in such a state.

Anakin thinks, what does _Obi-Wan_ have to do with his capture?

\--

The Force is a vital part of every Jedi, to be cut off from it would be a travesty which could end in bloodshed or more. Obi-Wan Kenobi knows this. Obi-Wan Kenobi has taught this. Obi-Wan has _lived through_ it.

For the better part of his life, Obi-Wan has had a bond with Anakin, the star-like presence of his Padawan constantly shining through, no matter how much shielding he attempts. For the past thirteen years, the barrage of power that comes with Anakin Skywalker has been a part of him. Such a thing would perhaps horrify other jedi, to have such an intrusive presence in one’s mind. But to the Jedi Master, it’s _comfort_.

During a council meeting in a rare moment of respite within the Jedi Temple, Obi-Wan Kenobi keels over.

_Gone._

He can feel the concern of his fellow council members. He feels the loud noise of the Force, its screams of _despair_ if a cosmic entity could despair ( _whereismyson- where is my chosen? Where is my child? findMYCHILD! Return him to me! whereismyson whereIS HE?)_. What strikes Obi-Wan, above all, is what he _can’t_ feel. What he should feel. There is a vacuum of power lying in place of Anakin Skywalker down their bond. The feeling of it so incredibly _wrong_ it may as well haunt him for eternity.

On the floor of the highest point of the Jedi Temple, Obi-Wan reaches out.

On the floor of the highest point of the Jedi Temple, council member comma Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi _cries_.

\--

In more usual- more regular, capture events, General Anakin Skywalker would stage his own escape. After all, he is the Hero With No Fear, and so he triumphs above all. In more usual- more regular, capture events, Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker would have the reassurance of Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi in his head ( _hold tight, Padawan. I am coming)_. In more usual- more regular, capture events, Anakin Skywalker would be hanging by with the overtly familiar presence of his wife in the force, full of worry and full of _hope_.

During this event of capture, none of those are viable.

He’s _alone_.

As a slave on Tatooine, it does no good for one to be by themselves. When you are alone, you face the sentence of death. The masters of Tatooine shows no mercy, age matters not. To have companions as a slave, is to have someone to share your burdens. Never have Anakin had to face the full punishment of the Masters, for he has a mother. ( _had- he remembers_ ).

As a Jedi in the Temple, there is never a moment where you are _alone_. For the force is strongest in the jewel of Coruscant, where peace and harmony is ever present and the force _sings_. To be alone as a Jedi is simply impossible. As a youngling, you have an entire dormitory of companions. As a padawan, knight, master- you form _bonds_. Constant presence of those whom you border on attachment with. ( _or outright breaks_ ).

As Anakin Skywalker, he is never alone. And above all, this strikes him hardest. The Force is a protective parent constantly encompassing him. Their protection and care without limits of physical beings. The Force is the voice in his head, his ears. His sight was granted by it, his _sense_ and without it, he is blind. The Force is not with him ( _i am one with the force and the force is with me)_.

There is no greater pain than silence. No greater misery than his current loneliness.

_Stars._ He wishes he could say something hurts, that he is _hurting_. But he can’t. For he is not hurting, he simply doesn’t _feel_. And the numbness speaks volumes, the numbness speaks louder than whatever scream he let out moments earlier. ( _always on the move, never quiet)_

And by The Force, how he _wishes_ he could feel _something_ \- _anything_ ( _theforceiwanttofeeltheforce_ ).

“Awake now, are you?” blinking, Anakin can perhaps see horns on his capturer’s head, not much else.

“Silent at last, little chosen one?” the fingers are back on his jaw, gripping once more.

The way his capturer taunts him nearly slips Anakin’s mind, it doesn’t register with him. The tone, the words. Nothing does.

“Hmmm, perhaps now we shall contact Kenobi.” the only person accompanying him leaves once more.

Anakin knows that his body is shutting down. He knows it deep inside of him. He feels it, the way that his body no longer moves at his will, the way that his _mind_ barely functions, the way that he has no sight, not with his eyes and certainly not with the force. Is this how Obi-Wan felt in Jabiim? This torture?

He’s been tortured before. Perhaps countless times during the past few years alone. Force lightning, cuffs, burns, whips. Never once has he broke. Not once. What is it that Obi-Wan once told him?

_There is no greater pain to a Jedi than losing the Force._

**_Oh._ **

****

Anakin, pain still raw from losing his mother thought, well more of spoke- that _i think losing a loved one would hurt more, Master_

Obi-Wan didn’t say anything then, eyes still sullen and filled with pity for Anakin’s loss. And oh he _wishes_ losing his mother hurt more than this. As a being accustomed to pain, the feeling of losing the force grows increasingly confusing by the moment. How is it possible to feel absolutely nothing whilst feeling like your _entire body is being burnt in lava_ at the same time? There is absolute _numbness_ in the midst of absolute pain.

Anakin knows, that if he were coherent enough to answer questions, this would be the torture to truly break him. Alas whoever captured him clearly did _not_ think things through. He’s not even aware enough to _breathe_ , let alone leak confidential Republic information. But would he ever even risk the Republic for his own sake? Well not the Republic, maybe. But… the Chancellor, Ahsoka, Obi-Wan, _Padmé._

Yes… he _will_ hold still. For as long as possible.

Yes, he resolves. He will wait until the moment where he meets his end.

For him. For her.

\--

Politics is at the center of every war in the history of sentient beings. In relation, politicians are, more often than not, those who make or break war. In war, rules do not exist. After all, how would one regulate a _massacre_? They’re not meant to be regulated, they’re meant to be stopped. Padmé Amidala knows this first hand. Padmé Amidala believes this. Padmé Amidala _upholds_ this.

For most of her life, Padmé Amidala has been a politician. Once the Queen of Naboo, and now its Senator, the scope of her influence is _galactic_ , much like the war occurring at this very moment. Her beliefs are firm, her ideology upheld, her visions strong. Her speeches are rousing, her rebuttals are outright frightening. To Padmé Amidala, politics is not a game. It concerns lives. _So many lives_. And so, it _is_ her life.

For the better part of her life, Padmé Amidala has known Anakin Skywalker. Once as the Queen of Naboo, moments as its senator. And now, as his spouse. Their love has survived across years, across stars, and now across war. Their love has _survived_ , for they are both survivors. She has no desire for it to change. To Padmé Amidala, her love with Anakin Skywalker is not a game. In fact, it perhaps- is the better part of her life. _Yes._

On a dim afternoon in Coruscant, the Senator of Naboo, is enjoying a non-politics related datapad during a rare moment of respite between Senate sessions.

On a dim afternoon in Coruscant, a knock sounds on her door.

On a dim afternoon in Coruscant, Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi meets with Senator Padmé Amidala.

On that very same afternoon, a sorry look is translated, a thank you is whispered, a door is closed.

In that very same moment, former Queen and Senator of Naboo Padmé Amidala fell to her knees. Now, she sobs, years of training causing silence to permeate even with her sorrow. She sobs for the utter _loss_. She cries for her love.

He- _they_ have to survive.

They _must_.

\---

And so it begins.

The chosen in his cage.

His love, his master, in their gilded cage.

His chosen in the unknown.

The assailant hides his glee.

For begun has the next phase.

Kenobi.

\---

As a child, he grew enlightened. Tortured, yes. But _enlightened_. He has a Master, a simple way of life. He knows though, that one day _he_ will be the one to be called Master. For he is _darth_. For he is sith. And that is the cycle of the dark. A fact. And it was all so simple then.

When graduated, the dastardly apprentice stroke.

Kenobi has _ruined_ him. Kenobi, with one stroke of his dead Master’s lightsaber, had ruined him. ( _And was that not a mistake? The dead Master meant Kenobi had become a Master- effectively rising above Maul)_

Maul will _not_ make the same mistake. The apprentice dies first.

It will _hurt_. It will _ruin_. Maul will ruin Kenobi, with one stroke of _his_ lightsaber.

For he is darth. He is dark. The unknown fabric of the universe is in his calling, in his mastery. And Kenobi, Kenobi is _light_. Darkness will forever overtake the light. That is _natural_.

He sends a transmission.

\---

Anakin does not know what’s happening. Earlier, he had felt nothing. _Now_ \- now he doesn’t know. Everything is _hot_ , he is burning, absolute burning. From the _inside_. No classes on force technique had ever explained this as an eventuality to a Jedi losing the Force. _None._

He longs for a savior, to be in the safe arms of his Master, the loving arms of his wife, the gentle presence of his padawan, the voice of the Chancellor.

_No one is coming_.

And is that not a somber realization? Obi-Wan commands the Open-Circle Fleet and Anakin, as a general himself, _knows_ that no resources can be expended to search for him during a war.

( _deep down, anakin also realizes that without the force, with no memory or witnesses of his capturer or the identity of the person that has him captive, there is no hope in finding him.)_

There is mercy in death, he remembers.

It had been drilled into him. _Mercy in death. Pleasure in pain._ For a slave, death can sometimes be mercy. For death by separation, death by experimentation- or by fates much _much_ worse, would _hurt_ more. And there is no mercy nor pleasure nor elation in _hurt_. There is pleasure in pain, for in pain- you are _damaged_. In damage, you are _safe_. In damage, you are worth less, and you are _safe_. When the masters whip you, when the masters _beat_ you, you must find the pleasure in the fact that when damaged, you are _safe_.

_Mercy in death, Anakin._

There is no death, there is the force. The Jedi teaches.

This too, had been drilled into him. Through countless meditations with Obi-Wan, through his classes at the temple. Anakin appreciates the Jedi Code. Sure, he has never been the best at abiding it, but he _respects_ it. He has it within his heart. The Jedi Code has contradictions when faced with what he was taught by his mother. But he supposes, the force is, in a way, _mercy_.

What is a man to do, a _force sensitive_ man to do, when faced with dead, but with no force? For that is his current reality.

_There is no force, there is death._

As if an open wound has been ripped fresh on his skin, he _howls_. Phantom or not, it doesn’t matter. He has to accept.

_There is no savior._

_There is no force._

_There is only death._

_And stars, may mercy come with it._

\---

The Force is a vital part of every Jedi, some more so than others. She knows that this is the reality for her Master. The lightsaber is the life of every Jedi, some more so than others. She knows too, that this is the reality for her Master. Bonds are integral to the teachings of a Jedi, some more integral than the others. _Again_ this is a reality to her Master. To see such vital parts of her Master- of _skyguy_ , so hollow- so abandoned, It… _hurts_.

Jedi Padawan Ahsoka Tano, in the few years of her padawanship under Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker, has never expected this to happen.

Jedi Padawan Ahsoka Tano, in the past week of this nightmare lived through by her and Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, has _hoped_ to a great amount.

Jedi Padawan Ahsoka Tano, in the past few days of _fear_ under the threat of Ex-Sith Apprentice Darth Maul, has expended every last effort in her body.

In the nightmare, the shape of Obi-Wan has changed. The usually polished and refined Jedi Master now buried under the pressure of worry and fervent desperation. In the nightmare, the shape of _her_ has changed. Never once has Ahsoka been confronted with the trouble and conflict of attachment and fear so _deep_. This troubles her.

In fear, the presence of Obi-Wan has changed. The usually so pure presence of Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, so rooted in light and unchanged by even war, has been tainted by so much fear, it adds to her own fear. ( _attachment_ ). In fear, the presence of _her_ has changed. Usually filled with the undercurrent of anxiety, of _love_. Ahsoka has never experienced this deep fear. This _scares_ her. This _changes_ her.

“Ahsoka.” the haggard being of Obi-Wan Kenobi greets her with a shocking tone. The two are on The Negotiator, a table holo containing a search map standing between the two of them. On their search for Anakin, the 501st had fused with the 212th, in pursuit of increasing effectiveness in numbers and specialty skills held by both battalions. She hopes it’s working.

“Do we have any new leads?” it feels robotic, to ask this question after so many times. She sees its necessity. But to utter it so many times in so little time has built up her frustration towards the phrase ( _to the answer usually following it in particular_ ).

“New? Yes. Viable? I’m not sure.” Ahsoka walks to stand beside Obi-Wan, hoping to see what has him in such a state of unrest.

“Well it’s better than nothing, right, Master Obi-Wan? Why isn’t it viable.”

“Because, Padawan.” there’s a pause. Obi-Wan’s hair falls off it’s neat, brushed, placement. Ahsoka thinks he looks so incredibly _tired_. And she wonders if he’s had any sleep for the past week. Or if he’s had the force and the hollowness screaming at his head the whole time.

“It leads us to _Naboo_.”

**_Oh._ **

****

\---

“Can you feel him?” a cackle here.

“He is near. I can _feel_ him.” a snarl here.

The curling warning sound of a lit lightsaber is all he has before the heat scorches his skin. He screams.

_A lightsaber._

_He has a lightsaber._

_No no no no no no no._

“We have to freshen up for your dear old Master, Chosen One.”

_Master? What-_ “M.. master?” he stutters, voice barely slipping through the mask.

_Obi-Wan._

_No, he’s lying._

_Anakin can’t feel him._

_Anakin can’t feel Obi-Wan_

_(Anakin can’t feel anyone)_.

“Ah ah, no need to call me Master, just _Maul_ will do.”

Maul.

It’s familiar.

He doesn’t remember.

_Oh._ He doesn’t remember. He doesn’t _know._

_A sith?_

“He will come to pick you up soon, Chosen One. Do not worry.” condescending. Like the masters.

_Who?_

_—-_

What Anakin recalls next, he will almost have no recollection of. He hears the sound of lightsabers coming to life. Different ones, this time. _“Surrender Maul, you’re outnumbered.”_

He hears the grunts of different _people_ \- why are there suddenly more people in the room? Who is there aside from Maul. _“You are WEAK. You will PERISH.”_

The clash of lightsabers is an amazingly familiar sound to him. A time ago, the sound was almost _comforting_ to him. Clashing lightsabers meant sparring. Sparring with Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, Aayla, Plo-Koon, Kit Fisto… any of the Jedi, really. But _now-_ now it’s _frightening_. He’s blind, he can’t see- can’t feel, what’s going on. _“I will never let the same fate fall upon him! You monster!”_

The sounds are deafening. The cry of battle, the smell of burning cloth ( _and oh- he can smell now, that’s nice_ ). He whimpers. Because he’s so _afraid_. Everything is unknown. _“You cannot save him, Kenobi! He is already a subject of Sidious. Your **Chosen** is dark!”_

_“You are **false**. And I know so.” _

There’s a rustle, the clashes intensify- _faster faster_. The sounds- oh he hears _nothing_ but the sounds of the lightsaber and he’s so- _scaredscaredscared._

A lightsaber drops- it’s ignition cut short. Is it Maul? The unknown assailant?

Silence.

Movement.

Anakin knows not who it is. He whimpers.

“ _Ah-nakin. Oh._ Anakin. I was so worried, Padawan.” the thing’s voice is _warm_ ( _a cup of warm Sapir tea on meditation mats- fresh flowers in front of the fountain in the room of A Thousand Fountains, the protective stance of Soresu. Safe.)_

The thing sounds like Obi-Wan, but it's not Obi-Wan? It can’t be.

_Safe. safe. Safe. safe. Safe?_

“What has he done to you? Oh Anakin,” hands. Hands on his face. It’s _gentle_. It’s soft, but marred with grip lines. ( _a steady hand on his shoulders as he stutters through conversation, guiding hands through lightsaber forms, brushing his scalp through nightmares. Safe.)_

Those are his hands.

_Safe. safe. Safe. safe. Safe._

“Skyguy!” a new voice. Excited. Relieved. Why is it relieved? ( _jokes exchanged in the middle of a battlefield, laughter coursing through his quarters, gentle awe accompanied with sheepish requests for lessons. Safe. **Protect**.)_

….Ahsoka?

_Protect. Safe. Safe. safe?_

“We’re getting you out of here, Master.” hands. Hands on his wrist. It’s _small_. It’s timber, but strong with training. ( _a shaking hand reaching out to him, a playful gesture splashing him with sand, an awkward hand adjusting to a second lightsaber. Safe. **Protect.** )_

It’s Ahsoka.

_Safe. protect. Safe. safe. **Protect.**_

****

He thinks they’re doing something. He can feel them reaching for something, at least. Clanking metals, the sound of even _more_ footsteps approaching ( _danger)_.

He _knows_ they’re doing something. He can feel it. First, the weight on his mouth lifts. _Light_.

Next, the clasps. Ahsoka unfastens them- _how?_

**_Oh._ **

Anakin falls to his knees. His head falls back.

The repercussion of being cut off from the force has never been truly studied by any Jedi. Living or dead. After all, a study such as this one would require _experimentation_. It’s concluded that this kind of experimentation should _never_ be an option. Ever.

Though never truly studied, every Jedi _knows_. Every Jedi knows that the repercussions are dire. That for some ( _most_ ) there is not even a chance to come back from the tragedy. The torture.

Anakin Skywalker is the Chosen One. Anakin Skywalker is the son of The Force. This has many meanings- this has many repercussions. But for Anakin Skywalker, right now, being the _son_ of The Force means what makes up half of him is The Force itself. And to be cut off from it, is to be cut off from half of what makes him, _him._ To imagine Anakin Skywalker being cut off from the force is to imagine a human being with no water in their body. But here? Here, it’s reality.

His head falls back. His eyes turn white.

Anakin _screams_.

_(MINE! My son, my son. My child. My chosen. MINE. My son. No. never again. MINE. **my** **son**.)_

An entire galaxy occupies his head once more. The power of the cosmos is at his fingertips. The cosmos is _within_ him. Loud. _LOUD._

Anakin Skywalker provided a black hole in the force a week ago, causing every force sensitive to balk and go in shock.

When a black hole dies, it evaporates. An evaporating black hole _expends_ an incredible mass of energy into the galaxy. In the Force, this is Anakin Skywalker. One would think, this signifies death, but no. Miracles happen in the realm of the suns.

A star is reborn. The son of suns once more.

Everywhere in the known universe, force sensitives stagger. A ringing in their ears and migraines forming in their heads. The utterly _overwhelming_ feeling of power that has been expelled, then _sucked_ , then compressed into one matter.

Anakin Skywalker is a supernova in the Force.

Anakin Skywalker is also bleeding. _TOO MUCH TOO MUCH TOO MUCH._

The absolute strength of the shields that surrounds his mind have all but evaporated, leaving a bare mind in its wake. Anakin _cries in blood_. ( _“Cody, Rex, hold him! Ahsoka, with me!”)_.

Two familiar presences. Their hands, their voices. _Safe._

( _“Be with Me. Be with Me.”)_

Iron clad walls box him. Claustrophobic.

_Silent._

Safe.

_(“Gather the troops, we’re leaving for the Temple immediately. Contact Master Vokara Che, tell her… tell her we have a critical patient.”_

_“Yes, General.”)_

\---

Anakin wakes in phases.

First, he’s curled up in the corner of the box ( _quiet. safe)_. His eyes. His eyes are open. It’s clear, a face hovers over him. He senses bacta on his body. Obi-Wan, he can feel Obi-Wan next to him.

Oh _stars_. He can _feel_.

_He can feel Obi-Wan._

He could cry.

Obi-Wan is warm, Obi-Wan is light, Obi-Wan is safe. Their _bond_ \- where is it? His pupils widen in panic.

Anakin reaches out.

It was like flying towards the twins suns of Tatooine, so bright and terrifying. Anakin cries. _Pain. Too much._ ( _“Anakin! Kix, sedate him!”)_

The second, he’s lying still in the middle of the box _(safe. safe)._ His hands, he can move his hands. _Hand?_

There’s only one hand.

His eyes open. He _panics_. Where- where is his hand? Why doesn’t he have an arm? Where _is it_? He gets up. He raises his torso.

He screams.

In an instant he can feel- _oh it’s so nice to feel_ the healers in a rush, approaching. He thinks he sees blood seeping through whites.

Huh?

Is that his?

Anakin doesn’t remember blood. Doesn’t remember seeing blood. Doesn’t remember the pain of the blood.

He cocks his head, registering the injury _(it hurts)_. And he loses consciousness.

In the third, he sees through the window of the box _(protected. freedom)_. He wakes slowly. His eyes blinking slowly, adjusting to the light. He wakes softly, to the light seeping through the window and the gentle beeping of the heart monitor.

He wakes with warmth, a golden presence encompassing him. “ _Anakin_.” it’s Obi-Wan, but his voice is desperate, and it cracks. Obi-Wan is holding his one arm, hands fisted tight. Anakin opens his mouth, he attempts to speak.

“ _Hush_ , dear one. You wouldn’t want to wake Padmé.” silently, Anakin finally registers the _other_ warmth he feels. _Padmé_. He missed her, so much. _Too much_. She’s lying beside him, her head tucked between his head and elbow. ( _their love survives, for they both are survivors)._

“It’s alright, I have… assured your privacy with her.” And _of course_ Obi-Wan knows. At the quiet, Obi-Wan just smiles, and lands another assuring squeeze. “I’m going to call for Ahsoka. Be well, Anakin. Try not to perform any stunts in the short minutes I’m gone.” Obi-Wan gets up from his chair, feet light on the ground, the automatic door letting him out.

Slowly, Anakin moves the fingers of his working hand, rolling his shoulders, gently moving to brush on Padmé’s hair. Her hair is luscious, it’s soft, it’s… it’s Padmé.

“Angel…” Anakin’s voice is raspy, after so much time of disuse ( _how long has it been?)_ barely a whisper. But it’s enough to wake her.

Padmé jolts awake, sitting on the bed. Her eyes are intensely staring at him, as if acknowledging every single one of his details “Oh, Ani. I was so _worried_.” and she falls onto him.

He wishes he has enough strength, enough _ability_. To talk, to comfort her. To say anything. But he says nothing as he slings his arm around Padme, her hands gripping tightly to his shirt.

“We thought you were _dead_. Obi-Wan… Obi-Wan said you were _gone_ , that he couldn’t feel you in the force and I thought of the worst.”

So that’s what happened. In a way.

They stay that way for a while, Anakin’s arm around her, her face buried in his chest. Just _holding each other_. Comforting each other. Their love stays unspoken, but it is _felt_. Love that transcends years and stars.

There’s a knock on the door. Padmé has to get up to unlock it, he knows. Part of him feels absolutely empty without her warmth near him, _on_ him.

“Skyguy!” Ahsoka is practically all over him. “Don’t you _ever_ do that again! What part of you’re stuck with me is so hard to grasp?” Anakin, even within his metal box, can feel the absolute _relief_ in Ahsoka’s tone.

“Now now Ahsoka, let’s not smother Anakin yet. He’s in recovery.” Obi-Wan is leaning on the door frame. Anakin has not seen him in that sort of position for a while, not since his days as Obi-Wan’s Padawan, where his Master would occasionally hang by his door frame to observe him working on his _trinkets_. Not since his days as a Padawan, where the amused look accompanied with the eyebrow raise would be directed at _him_.

Ahsoka sits at his feet, looking insanely comfortable. Obi-Wan pulls in a cart, teapots and pastries atop of it. Anakin looks at the assortments of cream filled pastries and longs to put one in his mouth. Anakin looks at it longingly as the cart is wheeled away from him, situating it instead near Ahsoka, where Obi-Wan pulls a chair. _Bastard_. _He knows I can’t sit up to take it_. Like any respectable person when denied their wants, Anakin pouts.

“No, Anakin. You’re still on nutrients.” Anakin sighs. He _wishes_ he could use the force to levitate one of the pastries towards him. He wishes for the force _(the intense burn of flying towards tatooine’s suns bare)._ He _longs_ for it.

He hears a conversation forming around him, Anakin, not being able to talk, simply closes his eyes. He needs… he needs to sort things out.

_(“Reach inwards. Inwards to the force. To your core. Feel it flowing through you, feel it around you, take a deep breath. And **reach**.”)_

Anakin breathes in.

When he opens his eyes next, he’s in the box. The iron clad room Ahsoka and Obi-Wan constructed for him _(safe. protected)_. Anakin looks out the one singular window in the room ( _force at your fingertips, the cosmos bends to your will)._

He presses his fingers onto the window, closing his eyes and taking another deep breath. The window cracks. And then it shatters. With the shattering of the window, comes the shattering of the alcove and with it the protection it brings. He is once again free to walk the sky.

Anakin wakes in between the vast mystery of the galaxy. Golden threads are floating around him, stars shining to light the cosmos. Stars, stars that dissolve into stardust at the touch of his finger. This is the Force.

“My son. _My sun.”_ The fabric that ties the entire universe is whom he calls his sire, one who presents themself as a creature of the light.

The Force approaches him. They land a hand on his cheek, sparks of light emitting from the contact. “Welcome home.”

And yes. More than anything, the Force feels like home. The realm feels like home.

“I… need your help.”

“Your will is mine. My will is yours. What do you ask for, Anakin?”

“To… _feel_. Fully.” Anakin bites his lips, unsure as to how he could form his request. It all seemed so easier in his head.

“I need you.” Really, it’s simple. He needs the force back. He needs to be able to feel, to see, to hear, to do things with the force once more. He needs the force back. He desires to feel the force in his fingertips, coming so easily. He longs to wield the power of the cosmos. He wants to be able to do this all _without_ the previous pain that has been accompanying it in his last attempt.

“I know.” _of course._ “It will… hurt. You might worry your friends.” Anakin considers this.

“It’s all right.”

“Let there not be a next time, my child.” The Force almost sounds… sad.

“I’m certainly not planning on it, Parent.” The Force smiles at the calling.

“You better not be. There are much more reasonable excuses to visit. Now close your eyes.” next to the power of The Force, everything is but a speck of dust.

When he opens his eyes next, it’s to panicked looks from Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, and Padmé.

“Anakin!” Obi-Wan shakes at his shoulder. Anakin blinks a few times “b’ wan?” he can almost feel the sleep lacing his tone. So his Parent had put him asleep for the… thing?

“You were _glowing_.” That was Ahsoka, voice filled with awe.

“I’m sorry. I… had a talk.” Padmé looks instantly relieved. Anakin hates that he’s caused her so much pain and worry. Obi-Wan raises his eyebrow at him, but merely nods along.

_“Anakin?”_ Obi-Wan communes through their bond. He’s never been so glad to hear Obi-Wan’s voice in his head.

_“Obi-Wan.”_ Anakin floods feelings through their bond _relief, elation, gratitude, love_.

_“You talked with The Force.”_

_“I know.”_

_“That was dangerous.”_

_“I know.”_

_“Please refrain from scaring us consistently that way in the future, Anakin.”_

_“I have to keep you on your toes somehow, Master.”_ _teasing, joy, playful_. Anakin blinks out of his mental conversation with Obi-Wan.

Anakin looks at the Jogan fruit cake Padmé has between her fingers. Quickly, he wills for the slices of Jogan on top of the cake to float towards his mouth.

_“Ani!”_

_“Anakin.”_

_“Master!”_

The instant chorus of three cheers accompany the gesture, showing their protest simultaneously. Anakin shrugs. The three laugh.

Anakin Skywalker is surrounded by the three people in the world he adores the most. Anakin Skywalker is surrounded by the presence of his Force-damned of a parent, enveloping him with warmth ( _and oh. He hopes he’s not imagining the bare traces- the whispers of his mother’s presence)._

There’s so much _love_. And even if he’s been through pretty much hell, Anakin has probably never been so _content_.

He’s not fully healed, not fully better.

But for now, he’s _happy_.

And that’s enough.

**Author's Note:**

> constructive is welcome! i really enjoyed writing this so i might make a continuation? please leave a kudos and a comment if you liked it! i live off them :D
> 
> also, my tumblr asks is open for any form of requests/prompts!
> 
> find me on
> 
> [tumblr](https://ah-nakin.tumblr.com)
> 
>   
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/vapaad)


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